


The Tie That Binds

by DeliriumsDelight7



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:01:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27787915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeliriumsDelight7/pseuds/DeliriumsDelight7
Summary: Set during the Neverland arc.  Belle is fascinated by watching Rumpelstiltskin dress, and resolves to learn a new skill.
Relationships: Belle/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold
Comments: 12
Kudos: 38





	The Tie That Binds

**Author's Note:**

> So I started writing this story about 24 hours ago. It was supposed to be a fluffy one-shot romp where Belle bullies various Storybrooke citizens into letting her practice on them. Instead it turned into... this.

_ I  _ will _ see you again. _

When Belle had told Rumpel those words, she’d scoured her heart for every bit of faith, love, and determination she had, pouring it all into her voice. Their love had survived misunderstandings, imprisonment, curses, and decades of separation. She refused to believe that it wouldn’t survive this. Not when they were finally reunited once more. Rumpel would find a way, and he would come back to her.

That was then. But as the days passed, her doubts grew. Why had he insisted that Belle stay behind in Storybrooke? The reason he gave - that he needed her to raise the cloaking spell to protect the town from outsiders - didn’t hold water. There was no shortage of people in the town who could have performed such a simple task. Sure, Rumpel wasn’t exactly trusted or well-liked in town, but surely  _ someone _ could have done it. Archie, perhaps, or Dove.

No, the only reason for Belle to stay behind was because Rumpel didn’t need her. Worse - she was a liability. The events of the past few weeks made it all too clear. She’d been kidnapped - multiple times - threatened, shot, cursed, and generally used against her love in every conceivable way. And she hadn’t missed the look in his eyes during their hamburger date, when Regina called Belle his  _ weakness _ . He’d looked furious, and very afraid. He didn’t deny it, and his eyes studiously avoided hers. In the end, his silence said more than any words could.

Then Ariel had come to Storybrooke with a message from Rumpel. Had anyone else sent the mermaid, Belle would have peppered the redhead with questions about the merfolk - their culture, their biology, their arts and architecture, anything that wasn’t contained in the rare books written on the subject. But word from her dark wizard took precedence, and soon her spirits were restored. Maybe Rumpel had left her here to keep her from getting in the way, but he’d needed her in the end. Nobody else would have cracked his riddle, and there wasn’t another person in all of Storybrooke he’d trust in his shop, except maybe Dove.

As she watched Ariel swim off in the distance, her thoughts strayed to her limited time with Rumpel. It seemed that ever since their reunion by the wishing well, something was always keeping them apart. She didn’t count her time as Lacey; physically they may have been together, but emotionally the distance between them had never been greater. In the weeks since the town’s curse had been broken and her memories restored, they’d only made love twice. The first time, he’d been slow and careful with her, bringing her pleasure again and again before sinking into her depths to take his own. His disbelieving eyes had never left hers, as though afraid she would disappear if they strayed for a second. Afterwards, he’d crept from the bedroom while she slept. That was when she’d caught him using magic. Frustrated with his constant evasions and thinking that he was prioritizing his power over her - again - she’d snuck out of the house without a word.

The second time was just after he’d awakened her from her cursed self, when the town was being destroyed by Regina’s trigger. Between their reunion, Rumpel’s grief at losing his son, and their imminent death, emotions were running high. Their coupling had been frantic, messy, and rough, but no less loving than the first. Once they finished, they both straightened their own clothes. Belle’s clothes - which were technically Lacey’s - had been chosen partly for how easy they were to slip in and out of, so putting them to rights only took a moment. But watching Rumpel make himself presentable fascinated her.

For as long as she’d known him, Rumpel had been a fastidious dresser. His shirts and waistcoats were of the finest silks and brocades. The leather trousers that clung so lovingly to his thighs and arse must have taken hours to get in and out of every day, unless he magicked himself into them. Certainly they couldn’t be comfortable to walk or sit in. But she had always freely admitted that he cut quite the dashing figure in them, even with his shimmering green-gold skin and strange eyes. So she’d been relieved to find that Storybrooke’s Mr. Gold shared her beloved imp’s preference for high quality, well-tailored clothing. His looks and mannerisms were so different from the man she’d fallen for in the Dark Castle. His clothes were a point of familiarity in a man who sometimes felt like a stranger to her.

Watching him dress himself felt like observing a private, one-man ritual. The way he meticulously did up his buttons was fascinating. The sight of his long fingers painstakingly tugging and smoothing every last crease and wrinkle from the expensive fabric was titillating. But what truly captured her imagination was watching him knot his tie. The whisper of the fabric as it slid around his collar, the snug fit around the vulnerable, sensitive skin of his throat, the simple elegance of the knot - it was all thrilling, in a quiet, intimate way. 

And now he was coming home. There would be no curse, no prophecy, hanging over their heads. They would have time to finally truly know each other, and for Belle to prove that she could be more than his weakness. She could be his strength, and his courage when he faltered. As he’d once said, there would be time for everything.

With a thoughtful hum, Belle turned her back on the harbor, walking back towards her apartment above the library. There were so many things she needed to learn. More about Rumpel’s past, for one. And if any magical texts had made their way here from the Enchanted Forest, she would devour them just as soon as she could get her eager little hands on them. Her brain was her greatest asset, followed by her courage. If she wanted to prove to Rumpel that she could be his support, she needed to understand the things that drove him. If she could do that, his actions might not be so incomprehensible to her.

But first, she wanted to start with something a bit more innocuous.

******

Belle stood in front of the full-length mirror on the back of her bedroom door, wearing one of Rumpel’s nice button-down shirts over a thin tank top. Dove had let her into Rumpel’s home to let her raid his wardrobe for a suitable shirt and tie to practice on. She’d chosen a luxury (not that he had any other kind) black cotton shirt, and her favorite tie: a scarlet one with a lovely royal blue paisley pattern. Taking another look at the instructional video on her laptop, she sent a quick but grudging thanks to Regina for cursing her with Lacey’s personality. She was still mortified by her alter ego’s behavior, and had had more than one nightmare about the heartbroken look on Rumpel’s face when he’d caught her… what was Lacey’s phrase? “Sucking face” with the Sheriff of Nottingham, of all people. Disgusting. But with the cursed memories came knowledge of this land with technology so advanced it was almost its own kind of magic. The internet, for instance, was a veritable font of information. Perhaps not as satisfying as poring over ancient tomes and scrolls, but she couldn’t deny that she could find answers much more quickly through a quick Google search.

She practiced the knot over and over. The first attempt fell apart before she was halfway through. So did the second. The third came out wrinkled, the fourth uneven, and the fifth crooked. The sixth seemed promising, but her overzealous efforts to snug the knot up to the front of the collar resulted in her nearly choking herself.

“Gods, how does Rumpel wear this all day?” she grumbled before starting over.

Finally, lucky number seven was a perfect Windsor knot. With a victorious squeal she loosened the knot, pulling the tie up over her head. The next time she saw Rumpel, she could do up his tie for him. Maybe she was getting over-excited for nothing. It was such a small thing, after all. Just a strip of silk. But to her it felt like more. It said,  _ I love you. I know you’ve been on your own for so very long, but I’m here now. I will always be here. You can rely on me. _

As she stared at the loosened tie, a thought occurred to her: knotting a tie on herself would be very different from doing so for Rumpel. The basic principle was the same, of course, but everything would be backwards. For a moment, she considered simply keeping this tie knotted. She could slip it over Rumpel’s head and tighten it as snug as he liked it. Knowing him, he’d be touched by the gesture regardless. He’d probably let her keep all his ties knotted if it made her happy, even if it ruined their perfect lines. But that would be taking half-measures, and Belle did  _ nothing _ in half-measures. If she was going to do this, she was going to do it right.

She just needed to find someone to practice on.

******

Plopping herself on the park bench with a disgruntled huff, Belle watched the children at play in the playground. Her first attempt at finding a man who would let her practice on him hadn’t gone so well. Dove had been willing to submit himself to the whims of his employer’s girlfriend, but… honestly, the man was just too  _ big. _ He had a solid foot and a half on Belle, who had to reach up on tiptoe to work on the knot. Noticing her struggles, he’d obligingly bent over, but she found that she couldn’t keep control of the silk when he didn’t stand upright. Finally they’d hunted down a stepstool in the antique shop - something Rumpel would likely deny ever using - and practiced that way. That was a bit better, but at the end of the day, Dove had a thick, corded neck like a bull’s. She needed someone a bit closer to Rumpel’s size.

Idly, Belle’s eyes followed a young blonde girl as she ran toward a man on the park bench opposite. His sense of style wasn’t unlike Rumpel’s, she realized, though much more theatrical than Mr. Gold’s. They both favored fine woolen trousers, button-down shirts, and waistcoats. But where Rumpel favored shirts with simple stripes, leaving the more ornate patterns for his ties, this man preferred the opposite. The scarf that obscured his neck all the way up to his jaw was a simple black number with thin gray stripes. His dove gray shirt featured a damask pattern, which clashed slightly with the paisley on his charcoal vest. He was taller than Rumpel, too, but if he sat on the bench, she could still practice on him.

She squinted. Come to think of it, the man looked familiar. He’d saved her from the room below the hospital where she’d languished for twenty-eight years. But she’d seen him elsewhere, too. 

The Dark Castle! That was it. This man - Jefferson, or “hatter” as Rumpel usually called him - had dealt with the Dark One quite a few times, bringing strange objects from other worlds in exchange for gold. He’d always had a kind word for Belle while she served them tea, and often a teasing remark for the soft looks that Rumpel would send her way when he was convinced nobody was looking. Jefferson hadn’t feared the Dark One’s temper any more than Belle had.

“Jefferson!” she called, already up out of her seat and crossing over to the man. He looked up from the little blonde girl before him - his daughter? - and waved as she approached.

“Belle,” he greeted her shortly. “Glad to see you’re well.”

She pulled up short. This might be the same kindly man she’d known back in the Enchanted Forest, but something had changed. His eyes no longer held the same warmth they once had. He looked haunted, guarded. Whatever he’d been through in the past thirty years, it had taken its toll on him.

“I am,” she said, letting her gaze slip to the girl between them. “Hello there. I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.” She held a hand out. “My name is Belle.”

The girl looked uncertainly toward her father. “It’s okay, Grace,” he said, and had Belle really thought his eyes were cold? They held all the warmth of a sunny summer day when he looked at his girl. 

The girl took Belle’s hand and shook it. “My name is Grace. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Belle. How do you know my Papa?”

Belle and Jefferson shared a look over Grace’s head, Belle’s nose crinkling at the adorable girl’s manners. “Your Papa and I had a friend in common,” she explained. “He was always very kind to me.”

“And Miss Belle brews the second best cup of tea I’ve ever had. Only second to yours, my Grace.” He glanced between Belle and his daughter. “Why don’t you go play for a bit longer? I think Miss Belle and I might have something to discuss.”

“Okay, Papa.” And without further ado, the girl was making a mad dash for the monkey bars.

“So. What does the Dark One want now?”

She shook her head. “Oh - no, I’m not here for him. I mean, I am, but I’m the one who needs something.” He made an elaborate gesture with one hand, urging her to continue. Rummaging around her purse, she produced a plain black tie that she’d purchased from Modern Fashions earlier that day. Rumpel might not object to her stealing one of his ties, but she doubted he’d appreciate her putting it on other men. “I’m trying to learn how to knot a tie, and I was hoping I could practice on you. I need a shirt with a collar, and yours looks perfect.”

Jefferson’s hand fluttered up to his throat. He didn’t seem conscious of the gesture at first. He pulled the hand from his neck, staring at it as though it had a mind of its own, and folded it in his lap. “That’s… not something I can help you with.”

“Oh.” She couldn’t say she wasn’t disappointed. She didn’t know many people in town, and nearly every man she knew was more likely to be seen in a T-shirt than a nice button-down. Jefferson had seemed like the perfect person to help her. “Why not?”

For a long moment, he said nothing, his jaw set in a rigid line. Finally, he spoke. “A lot has happened since your days in the Dark Castle. I’ve learned a lot since then. I’ve learned that when the wolf comes to your door with promises and assurances, it doesn’t make her teeth any less sharp.” His eyes pinned hers in a cold stare. She shivered. “Never again. I bare my throat to no one.”

******

“Can I help you?”

The doctor’s words broke Belle out of her reverie. “What?”

Dr. Whale stepped up to the library circulation desk. “You’ve been, ah, staring at my shirt for the past five minutes.” He looked down at himself. “Did I spill something on myself? Got a leaky pen in my pocket?”

“Oh - no - sorry, I was actually looking at your tie.”

His eyebrows raised. “My tie.”

She nodded. “Yes. You see, I’m trying to learn to tie a tie for when Rumpel gets back. I’ve been trying to find someone to practice on, but haven’t had much success.”

“I see. And you wanted me to be your guinea pig?” He eyed her thoughtfully. “I must admit, I’m a bit surprised. Didn’t think you’d want anything to do with me. Y’know, what with the whole ‘keeping you locked in a cell for three decades’ thing.”

Belle winced at his cavalier mention of her years of imprisonment. To him, it might have been nothing. For her, those twenty-eight years had been hell. A lack of memories didn’t make the time go by any more quickly. With nothing to occupy her mind and no memories to fall back on, only the knowledge that she was somehow insane, it was a wonder that she hadn’t gone mad in truth. She still wasn’t overly fond of tight, enclosed spaces.

But she couldn’t blame Victor for her captivity. He may have been the one keeping her there, but it was all at the Queen’s behest.

“You were cursed,” she said, picking at a loose thread on the sleeve of her cardigan. “We were all cursed to be our worst selves. I don’t think anyone should be held accountable for their actions under the curse, except for Regina.”

He snorted. “Tell that to David Nolan,” he grumbled.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He cleared his throat. “Tell you what: if you’re decent enough not to hold what Whale did over my head, I can be decent enough to not hold Lacey over yours. Sound good?”

She smiled. “Deal.”

He flinched at her wording. “So… you need to practice tying a tie, for when the Dark One gets back from… wherever he went. Am I correct in assuming that you’d like to practice on me?”

“Yes!” She nodded eagerly. “Yes, that’s it exactly.” 

“I see.” His eyes flicked up and down, and he sighed. “Look, normally if a beautiful woman approached me asking to have her way with my clothing… I mean, I definitely wouldn’t say no. But you’re the Dark One’s mistress.”

A laugh bubbled out of Belle’s throat. “Mistress? You make it sound like I’m either his woman on the side, or some sort of dominatrix.”

He held his hands up placatingly. “Hey now, whatever you get up to behind closed doors is none of my business. Personally, I think he could use someone to keep him in line.” He flushed and cleared his throat. “Uh, point being, I’ve seen how protective he is of you. I have absolutely no desire to get on his bad side if he gets it into his head that something inappropriate happened between us. I enjoy all my limbs and organs in their current configuration, thank you very much.”

“But nothing inappropriate is going to happen,” she insisted with a frown. “Rumpel trusts me. He knows I wouldn’t betray him like that.”

“Maybe. But I’m not taking that chance.” Belle opened her mouth to argue, but he raised a hand to forestall her. “I’m sorry. My answer’s still no.”

She subsided with a sigh. “Okay.” She glanced around the library. “So was there something you needed help finding?”

“As a matter of fact…”

******

“No. No way in hell, sister.”

“Come on, Leroy, please?” Belle held the black strip of silk out to him beseechingly.

The stocky man didn’t bother looking up from the repairs he was making on his boat. “No way. You won’t catch me dead in those hoity-toity suits Gold wears.”

She smothered a snicker behind her hand. Even if Leroy could squeeze his wider frame into Rumpel’s suits, the idea of the dwarf squirming uncomfortably in designer clothes was amusing in and of itself.

“I’m not asking you to,” she said placatingly. “All I’m asking is that you let me practice knotting a tie around your collar.

He snorted. “I don’t even own a button-down shirt.”

“You’re wearing one right now.”

He looked down at himself in dismay. “Wh… flannel doesn’t count!”

“Sure it doesn’t,” she giggled.

“It  _ doesn’t! _ Flannel is for rugged outdoorsy types. Not like those monkey suits Rumpelstiltskin wears. I doubt you could even get a tie to fit right around a flannel collar.”

He had a point there, but Belle was quickly running out of options. “Please, Leroy? I helped you once with your True Love. All I’m asking is for you to return the favor.”

He grudgingly softened at that. “Yeah, you did,” he admitted. “But when we were cursed, your boyfriend was a Grade-A asshole when I tried to help the fairies. Nuns. Whatever.” He finally looked up from whatever he was fiddling with. “I don’t get it, Belle. How could someone as good as you want to be with someone so cruel?”

Honestly, she’d heard more than her fill of horror stories about what sorts of evil misdeeds Rumpel got up to, both here and back home. It was something she still struggled with. Her True Love was a dark man, who did evil things without a hint of regret. He’d never hidden that part of himself from her. Belle wasn’t naive; she knew that, while there was a good man under all that darkness, there would be days that the darkness won out. She could either love all of him, or she could leave. There was no third option. 

And truth be told, she didn’t want one. She couldn’t agree with everything he’d done, and she would try to keep him on the path to good. But all of his experiences had made him into the man she fell in love with. What sort of True Love would she be if she only loved the good parts of him?

“I know,” she said. “I don’t know what Rumpel has against the fairies, and I know it wasn’t Astrid’s fault. It wasn’t right of him to take that anger out against you. But Leroy. Grumpy. Dreamy.” He squirmed uncomfortably at being so addressed. “Doesn’t Astrid still love you? Even when you’re grouchy and irritable and lashing out at everyone around you?”

“Well… yeah. But that’s completely different!”

“I don’t think it is,” she countered. “You were hurt, and it fundamentally changed you. If Astrid only loved the man you used to be, could you be happy? If you had to hide a part of you away in order to… I don’t know, protect her, could you honestly say that that’s love?”

Leroy lowered his head again so he could focus on tightening something with a wrench. Belle waited for a few minutes, but he didn’t say anything more. With a heavy sigh, she turned to go.

“Belle.” He gave the wrench one last turn with a loud grunt. “Look. I still don’t like the guy. Probably never will. But… you’re pretty okay.” Whipping off his cap so he could wipe sweat off his bald brow, he gestured back toward the town proper. “Talk to Archie. He wears ties all the time, and gods know he’s a hell of a lot more of a people pleaser than I am.”

Archie. Of course! Why didn’t she think of Archie? “Thank you, Leroy! I knew I could count on you.” She leaned in and planted a kiss on his scratchy, bearded cheek.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, ducking his head to hide the reddening in the apples of his cheeks. “Don’t thank me yet, sister. Archie’s got less reason to love the Dark One than I do.”

******

Twenty minutes later found Belle knocking on the door to Archie’s office. She wasn’t too worried about him having an appointment. The townsfolk very rarely availed themselves of his services. Which was a shame, really. Between losing their home and suffering under a curse for nearly three decades, Belle was fairly certain every last person in town could use a therapist. Even Regina.

Maybe even  _ especially _ Regina, if how she talked about her mother was any clue.

The door swung open, and Archie greeted her with the same warm, welcoming smile he had for everyone he spoke to. He was in his shirtsleeves, his jacket hanging from a peg on the wall. “Belle! What a pleasant surprise. Come on in.” He stepped to the side and beckoned her in.

“Thanks, Archie.” Belle stepped inside, keeping her hands neatly folded in front of her. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“Not at all.” He gestured her toward a couch, selecting a nearby armchair for himself. Once they were both comfortable, he spoke again. “So what brings you here today? You seemed upset at the diner the other day, before Ariel showed up. Were you still feeling…”

“Useless?” Archie nodded, and she shrugged. “It comes and goes, I guess. Drawbacks of being in love with a dark wizard, I guess. He’s got power I can never never hope to match, and enemies willing to use me to get to him. Even my biggest asset is nothing to him.”

Archie leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “What do you mean?” he asked.

“My brain,” she clarified. “I’ve spent my life gathering knowledge. Learning dead languages, studying other cultures, memorizing maps, and learning the ins and outs of running a kingdom. But he’s had centuries to gather more knowledge than I could learn in a lifetime.” 

“Does Rumpelstiltskin do or say anything to make you feel inferior?”

“Gods, no!” She laughed at the ridiculous idea. “No, I think if anything, he thinks  _ I’m _ out of  _ his _ league. He always… he always has this disbelieving look on his face when we’re together. Like he can’t believe I’m there, or he’s waiting for me to say that our love was just some elaborate prank, or something. I never really felt…  _ inferior _ … until he left me behind. Like I was an anchor weighing him down.”

“And… you were looking for a way to communicate your feelings with him? When he gets back?” Archie guessed.

She shook her head. “No, not at all. I mean… maybe eventually, but that’s not why I came.”

“Ah - my apologies. Why don’t you tell me why you came here?”

“Honestly?” With a quick rummage through her purse, she produced the black tie she’d been carrying around all day. “I’m learning how to knot a tie, and need someone to practice on.”

Archie straightened, looking nonplussed. “Oh. I… I see.”

“Before you say anything,” Belle continued, “I… I know Rumpel isn’t exactly popular in Storybrooke. I know he’s done terrible things, including to you. I’m not trying to - I don’t know, sweep that under the rug, or justify it.” She lowered her gaze to the tie in her hands, twisting the length of fabric in her fingers. “He’s a good man, under all the darkness. I love the goodness in him… but if I ignore the darkness, I’m ignoring the part of him that craves it. And I think that might be the part of him that needs love most of all.”

For a long moment, Archie was silent. Finally, he spoke. “Do you know what happened between me and Rumpelstiltskin?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Only that it hurt people. Which could be said about a lot of what he’s done, from what I gather.”

A whisper of fabric sliding against fabric made her raise her eyes. Archie had undone his tie, and was sliding it off. “I don’t normally give personal anecdotes in therapy sessions,” he said, “but I also don’t usually let patients have any say in my state of dress. So, since you don’t have an appointment, why don’t we chalk this up to two friends talking?”

Belle beamed at him. “Friends. I’d like that.” 

Archie settled on the couch cushion next to hers, and Belle set to work draping the tie over the back of his collar while he told his tale. “My parents set me on… a bad path, from a very young age,” he began. “It was one that I always hated, even as a boy, but one that I never strayed from. Loop it underneath, right - yes.” In a way, having the tie between them was freeing. It gave them both something to focus on while Archie unburdened himself. Belle filed the idea away for later. “I used to dream about getting away, but I never put any effort into it. Not until Rumpelstiltskin came to me with an offer.” Belle finished tightening the knot and let him check her work with his fingers. “A good first attempt. Maybe a bit crooked, but we can work on that. Would you like to try again?”

“Sure.” She unraveled the knot and started over.

“I made a deal with the Dark One - one that I was fairly certain would elevate my crimes from petty theft to parricide.” Belle’s mind stuttered to a halt at the word, but her fingers stayed busy on their task. Parricide - the killing of one’s parents. Just what sort of life had Archie led? “Things didn’t go according to plan - according to my plan, anyway - and two innocent people paid the price for my indecision. You can pull that tighter, if you like.”

Frowning, Belle asked, “I don’t understand. Indecision?”

“I could have done so many things differently. My parents set me down a path, which I could have - too tight, too tight!” Belle quickly tugged at the knot to loosen it from his throat. “Thank you. I could have tried to escape at any time,” he continued. “But I never even tried, until Rumpelstiltskin gave me what I thought was an easy solution. He even gave me deniability; if I didn’t know the consequences of my actions, how could I possibly be blamed for them? Yes, thread the end through the loop, just there.” 

Belle snugged the knot up to the buttons at his throat. “How’s that?”

He checked her work - feeling the shape of the knot, tucking a finger between the tie and the collar to check the tension, and making sure that the two ends were straight. “Feels good,” he praised. “One more time, for practice?”

She nodded, and started over one more time. “So… you blamed your parents for forcing you to commit crimes, and you blamed Rumpel for… making you hurt innocent people?” she summarized.

“I blamed them for  _ my _ actions,” he corrected her. “Move that a little to the left. Yes, perfect. Once I reached adulthood, I should have taken responsibility and left. I didn’t. When Rumpelstiltskin offered me a solution that was too good to be true, I should have questioned it. I didn’t. The people I hurt, were hurt because of me. Nobody else.”

“But Rumpel gave you the means to do it.”

“True,” he agreed. “He set me down a path, but I chose to walk it. He’s not blameless, but the lion’s share of the guilt is mine.” He rested his hands over hers, prompting her to look up from her work. “I can never forgive Rumpelstiltskin for the deed I was manipulated into doing. But without him, I probably would have stayed on the path my parents set me on. I wouldn’t have learned accountability, something I will always be grateful for. Now maybe you can help me to return the favor.”

His hands left hers, and she resumed her task. “What do you mean?”

“You can set him on the right path. Just - a small tweak to the right - there, now it’s straight.” This time the knot looked much neater than her previous attempts. She kept going as he clarified. “I was set on a bad path, and never thought to stray from it. It took a shock to make me realize that I needed to choose another road.”

“I’m not sure I know how to do that,” Belle admitted, threading the wider end of the tie through the final loop.

“Well, you said yourself that you see the good in him,” Archie said. “I… may have seen a glimpse of it myself, once. During the curse.” At her questioning glance, he shook his head. “Sorry. Doctor-patient confidentiality. Plus, the man controls my rent.” Their shared chuckle was strained and awkward; they both knew that Archie wasn’t joking, and Rumpel would exact much worse vengeance than increased rent if he felt betrayed. “You said earlier that your brain is your greatest asset, but I disagree. I see the effect you have on him. You ground him in a way nobody else in this town ever could. I think if you continue to believe in the good man you see, you could show him a better path. Whether he walks that path is up to him, but perhaps with your support, he’ll choose the right path on his own. And if he takes an unexpected detour, a gentle nudge might push him back in the right direction.”

With a flourish, Belle finished tightening the tie, scooting back to indicate she was done. “So? What do you think?”

Once more, Archie examined her work. “Perfect,” he announced. “I think Rumpelstiltskin will appreciate everything you’re learning for him. And I’m willing to bet that you can teach him more than you realize.”

Belle’s smile was heartfelt. “I’m starting to think so, too.”

******

_ Three days later… _

Belle and Rumpelstiltskin lay in the cot at the back of the antique shop, basking in the afterglow of their third time making love. She giggled. With a flourish of his hand and a puff of aubergine smoke, a penny materialized in Rumpel’s fingers.

“Copper for your thoughts, love.”

Cuddling into his side under the blanket, she let her fingers play over his bare chest. “I was just thinking that we’ve only ever had reunion sex,” she mused. “I’m looking forward to trying a few other kinds. Angry sex. Make-up sex. Boring, ‘there’s nothing good on TV’ sex.”

“Somehow, I doubt sex between us will ever be boring.”

“Mm.” She gave him a quick kiss before standing so she could hunt down her clothes. Rumpel made no move to get up, contenting himself with eyeing her nude form hungrily. “Come on, you. Time to get dressed.”

“I’m still enjoying the view.” He cast a disdainful glance at the clothes he’d worn to Neverland, now crumpled on the floor in a heap. “Besides, I’ve nothing to wear. Those clothes are fit to be burned.”

“Don’t you dare!” Belle fixed her love with her fiercest glare, which was somewhat diminished as she shimmed her bum into her panties if Rumpel’s wandering gaze was any indication.

He looked at her askance. “You can’t possibly tell me that that…  _ pirate _ garb does it for you,” he protested. 

“Oh, I don’t know,” she murmured, shrugging into her bra and doing up the clasps. “Leather… lace… plunging necklines… It paints quite the picture, wouldn’t you say?” She gave a teasing wiggle of her hips.

He snorted. “On you, maybe.”

“Hmm.” Still in just her underwear, she climbed back onto the bed, bumping her lover’s nose playfully with her own. “Care to make a deal with me, O Dark One?”

His eyes darkened. “What did you have in mine, dearie?” he asked, willing to play along.

“Well… if you keep the outfit… maybe break it out every so often in private… I could be convinced to return the favor.” 

His eyes flicked up and down her form, and she could see the wheels turning in his head. Leather, lace, plunging necklines. She wondered just what sort of images his slippery mind was conjuring. No doubt he’d be magically conjuring such an outfit for her later tonight.

“I believe you have a deal,” he murmured, his lips mere millimeters from her own. “Care to seal it with a kiss?”

She crossed that last distance between them eagerly, sucking his bottom lip between her own. Before he could do anything to deepen the kiss, she backed away with a mischievous grin. “Now that that’s taken care of…” She trailed off, crossing to a darkened corner of the room where she’d stowed a thick, black garment bag. “I had Dove let me into your house the other day, so I could fetch you a change of clothes,” she explained. 

His bemused smile was no less heartfelt for its uncertainty as he unzipped the bag and perused her selections. The suit, waistcoat and shirt were freshly pressed, the black leather oxfords buffed to a mirror shine. She’d chosen a black suit and charcoal shirt to match her own dark gray dress in a fit of whimsy. A vintage leather valise contained other necessities: fresh underwear and socks, belt, cufflinks, and sleeve garters. He didn’t often wear the sleeve garters, but she wanted to be prepared for anything.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he said quietly. “This is perfect.”

With an affectionate smile, she slipped her dress over her head. That done, she sat on the bed, ostensibly to put on her nylons, but really so she could watch him dress. Boxers, undershirt, and socks went on first, followed by fine woolen trousers. Meticulous fingers did up every button, just like the last time she’d watched him like this. This time, though, she stepped in to help: tugging his long hair free of his collar, smoothing the fabric over his shoulders, straightening his cuffs for him. He accepted her fussing without comment, his soft brown eyes following her every movement. The cufflinks she let him handle himself. That done, she helped him into his waistcoat, making sure that his shirt wouldn’t wrinkle underneath. Finally, the piece de resistance: the tie. Rumpel slid the crimson and blue silk from the hanger, but Belle snagged it from his fingers. 

“Let me,” she murmured. He acquiesced with a disbelieving frown.

Practiced fingers slid the tie under his collar until the two ends were just where she wanted them. With a look of intense concentration on her face, she guided the ends through the twists and loops, finally nestling the knot tight to the buttons at his throat.

“Good?” she asked.

He nodded, swallowed. “Yeah,” he whispered.

She tucked the tie into his waistcoat and fixed his collar. With one final adjustment to the knot, she patted his chest in satisfaction.

“There. Perfect,” she said with a cheeky smile.

His answering grin had an echo of the imp she’d fallen in love with a lifetime ago. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Her hands traveled up to play with the silk at his shoulders. “So… what now?”

He took her hands in his, his warm fingers squeezing lightly. “Well, that’s a question I didn’t have to ask myself,” he admitted. “I didn’t think I had a future.”

She returned the squeeze with a light pressure of her own. “But you do,” she insisted. “The boy wasn’t your undoing. And neither was Pan.” His face remained impassive, so she forged on. “So now you can stop worrying about prophecies, and… start thinking about your future.” And whether he could find a place for her in it. “There’s… endless possibilities. Countless paths to take,” she added, thinking of her talk with Archie.

“But there’s only one of those paths I’m interested in.” 

Belle nodded, her heart sinking. Of course. The one path he’d been following for centuries, since long before she’d even been born. The path to Baelfire. It was why he’d manipulated and hurt so many people. Why he’d rejected her love in the Dark Castle, and why he’d hidden the truth from her so many times. Of course he’d put his son first now that they were finally reunited. She couldn’t expect him to change course just because she’d learned to knot a tie.

Clearly she was a glutton for punishment, because her mouth decided that she needed to hear it from his lips. “W-which one’s that?” she asked.

“The one where you and I are together.” Her heart melted at his words, and as his hands reached out to reverently cradle her jaw, she couldn’t stop herself from leaning forward to lock her lips with his, her fingers plunging into the hair at her nape.

They embraced for several long moments, sipping slowly at each other’s lips, just savoring each other’s closeness. Finally, Belle relinquished her hold. Not willing to be separated, Rumpel leaned his forehead against hers. 

She let her hand slide back down to his chest, her thumb rubbing the knot of his tie. Everything wasn’t magically fixed between them. She still needed to learn more about him so she could understand what drove him to do the things he did. He still needed to let her in. But for the first time, it felt like they’d taken a step in the right direction. A first step together.

“Take me home?” she asked.

His chuckle was breathless and relieved. “I thought you’d never ask.”

**Author's Note:**

> So apparently I'm incapable of writing lighthearted fluff; I always have to delve into a character's insecurities and hangups, whether it's my original intention or not.
> 
> The scene with Archie and Belle using the tie knotting as a focus to distract from the subject at hand makes me REALLY want to write a continuation to this, where Rumpel unburdens himself to Belle while they practice shibari. But would Rumpel be doing the tying, or being tied? Decisions, decisions.


End file.
